The streets of Sandpoint are dark and uninviting on this night. Most of the houses and buildings in town are unlit and locked tight. A chilly wind blows in from the harbour, bringing with it the sting of oncoming winter.
The only buildings in town still open at this time of night are the Rusty Dragon, the White Deer, and the Garrison—and there’s signs of activity going on in its lit windows. The party hears the sounds of an older man speaking as they approach the Garrison; his voice is fast, wavering and thick with fear.
Sheriff Hemlock is in the main hall of the Garrison when the party enters. ”Ah—just in time. First thing’s first—what have you learned so far?”
Eostre steps forward and looks up at Sheriff Hemlock.
"Well, Sheriff, our visit confirmed our suspicions. Lord Aldern Foxglove is our Skinsaw Murderer. Somehow the man got himself turned into a ghoul, and like we suspected, the murders were to get our attention. The man you sent to the Sanitarium is suffering from ghoul fever, and he said Foxglove told him to give us an "invitation" to some local haunted house that's clearly a trap for us, considering how after his transformation his infatuation with Evelyn turned stalkery."
She looks to the others.
"Anything the rest of you'd like to add?"
"Yeah, there's a rat-man in that asylum who has some connection to the psycho witch from Thistletop. We'll follow up on that later."
"That asylum was a crazy, uh...I mean weird place," Nicat weighs in. "Ven didn't much care for the place either. And now we need to go take a look at the Misgivings, the old Foxglove Manor." With a loud gulp he adds, "Lord Foxglove sent a message through the crazy man, inviting us to 'join the pack' and then he'll 'end the harvest.' None of which sounds any good to me, but I guess we should check it out."
"Yes, I suppose we should," Ekan says
"If Aldern's become a ghoul against his will, and that's why he's behaving like this..."
Evelyn sighs, her face sad. "Poor soul..."
Eostre sighs too, rubbing the back of her neck.
"I don't know if it'll be much comfort but...that thing isn't Aldern. Aldern Foxglove died when the ghoul fever ran its course, and now only "His Lordship" or whatever he's calling himself is left. We kill that, Aldern's soul goes...wherever Pharasma decides to send him I guess. I don't know how you humans manage without a patron god to claim you the way Torag claims the dwarves. Anyway, it's not your fault. Someone killed him and made a monster out of his carcass. We need to put the monster down and find out who did it so we can stop them from making more monsters, like Grayst."
Then she snaps her fingers remembering something she'd been thinking.
"You may wanna have Father Zantus take a trip down to the Sanitarium, Sheriff, possibly with a few heavily-armed deputies. Evelyn's powers were able to repair the damage to Grayst's mind and body but couldn't cure the ghoul fever itself, and if it isn't treated he'll deteriorate again and end up a ghoul after all, which could overpower and prey on the Sanitarium's staff and other inmates, and then we'd have a full-on outbreak of undead!"
Hemlock listens to the party's explanations, his forehead creasing in concern.
"...disturbing news, the lot of it." He nods. "And speaking of a full-on outbreak..."
He leads the party into a side room, where a filthy-looking elderly farmer sits behind a plain wooden table with his head in his hands. His brown overalls are torn in several places, and his hands shake like leaves in a windstorm.
"This is Maester Grump--we've only just brought him back to town. He's told us that something horrible has happened at the Hambley Farm--Mr. Grump?"
The old farmer looks up, his grey beard ragged and dirtied. "Sheriff?"
"I need you to recount your story again. These are my deputies--they'll be able to handle anything you can describe."
Evelyn moves up to Maester Grump and places a hand on the man's upper arm. "It's okay, we're here to help. Could you please tell me what happened?"
Grump swallows and meets Evelyn's eyes for a moment before looking back at the table.
"...walkin' scarecrows... been seein' walkin' scarecrows up and around the farms south o' town. No one's got a clue what's makin' them walk, but they all smelt of the grave, is what everyone said. THAT part be true, through 'n' through."
"They've been comin' from the old Hambley farm lately--things ain't been right there for days, now--and some locals went there--myself included--to see why they've got walkin' scarecrows on walkabout yesterday evenin'."
His face turns very pale as he recounts his story. "That's--that's--that's when we were ambushed--Greta & Jacob were the first to get ripped to shreds. Corpsefolk that slavered like starvin' dogs--"
"THEY EVEN ATE THE DOGS!" He breaks down after working himself up and starts sobbing.
"Where's the Hambley farm?" Evelyn asks her friends. "Is it on our way to the Misgivings?"
"There's no way this isn't linked to what we're investigating. We'll need to pay a visit to the site. The one we're looking for... I mean, what's left of Aldern... it may as well be there."
Grump is still sitting at the table and crying.
"It's to the south--it's on the same road that eventually leads to the Misgivings." Hemlock steps in.
"We'll see what's going on along the way then. In the meantime, tell the people what's happening, and advise them not to leave town until we return. See what can be done about the north wall and find some wagons to convert into moving barricades for the bridges. These are undead though, they don't care about drowning, so they can cross the water anyway. And whomever lives in those places south of the river, get them in town even if you have to drag them."
Eostre goes over to Grump and gives the old man an awkward hug with one arm.
"Hey, hey, it's okay...you're still alive...you're gonna be okay..."
She frowns, but it's a sympathetic one. She knew what it felt like to be a sole survivor after seeing something horrible.
"I'll need to speak with Brodert and Orik and the rest of the crew. The dig is officially postponed."
"What the heck is happening to Sandpoint?" Nicat wonders to no one in particular. "I agree, we gotta deal with this situation, to keep my folks and other safe," he continues, his tone uncharacteristically thoughtful, "but will this place ever be the same again?"
"Well...that's why people like us exist, I guess," Eostre replies. "I'm not much of a philosopher, but it seems like adventurers keep things from getting too crazy for the rest of the world."
She pauses.
"I gotta go see Orik and Brodert before we head out."
Eostre's workers are at the Rusty Dragon this evening, chugging down mugs of ale and dining on spiced salmon. Orik and Brodert are at the bar, and the old sage is talking the sellsword's ears off.
"Ven, go tell your family what's happening, then get everyone you know who's good with tools so we can get a start on fortifying the town. Who has the largest wagons we can get our hands on today?"
Seeing as she's no good at planning just about anything, especially not the town's defense versus an outbreak of undead, Evelyn decides to just follow Eostre to the Rusty Dragon.
As Eostre speaks to Orik and Brodert, Evelyn absentmindedly kicks her foot softly against the floor. She waves and smiles politely at the men and Ameiko.
"Good evening, Brodert. Orik," Eostre says, interposing herself between the two of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but I've got some bad news."
Orik focuses his attention on Eostre. "What news?"
----------------
Ven gives Conner a brief nod. "Will do."
"Don't think this means I'm not goin' to the Misgivings with ya."
Ekan looks at Nicat "Some will be the same, some never will. Take it from one whose family lost a village to giants- Tragedy lingers. That is not to say some will not grow stronger from it, but..." he sighs "I'm sorry, Nicat. Healing of the flesh, if you are lucky to find someone blessed like Evellyn, can be a matter of less than a minute. Healing loss? It can take many years, and still leave scars that never fade. Sandpoint has good people. Strong people. We must have faith in them even as they reward us with faith in us."
"I'm afraid the dig on Chopper's Isle will need to be postponed. I'm joining the others going to some place outside town called "The Misgivings" to stop the undead maniac that's been committing murders in the area. There's no point in making you wait around the dig site if I'm not around to supervise and pay you."
She frowns.
Orik arches an eyebrow and Brodert adjusts his glasses. "The Misgivings, eh? That's the old Foxglove manor, isn't it?"
"This whole murder spree is beginning to feel all too similar to the Late Unpleasantness..." The old sage sighs in dejection.
"That's when Chopper ran amok, right? Seems to be a bunch of stuff turning good people into monsters around here: first the Runewell drives that Chopper guy crazy, and now something turned that young Lord Foxglove into a ghoul. I'm actually starting to miss the gangs and criminals we had to deal with in Riddleport. At least they were honest about how sh*tty they were."
Orik takes another pull of his drink. "You reckon folks are going to want to stick around here after all of this? Goblins, ghouls, and whatnot--I wouldn't be surprised if property values around here take a nosedive."
Nicat listens closely to his friend Ekan, hoping that he'll say that everything is going to be okay. When Ekan says quite the opposite, the halfling's expression grows somber and dark. He's quiet for some time, his head hanging down in thought, but when he raises his head, there's a surprising light in his eye. "You've got the right of it, Ekan. It might be hard. Heck, it will be hard! But this town has been through a lot, and we're going to help it get through this too!"
He jumps up and and thumps Ekan on the shoulder, saying, "Let's get everybody together and deal with this! I think Eostre's at the Dragon, we can find her and Evelyn - maybe have a quick drink - and get going!"
Ven gives Conner a brief nod. "Will do."
"Don't think this means I'm not goin' to the Misgivings with ya."
"Ven, who's going to look after your family if you come with us?"
Ekan smiles at the halfling's ability to rebound (And leap, impressive jump) nods "Yes."
Orik takes another pull of his drink. "You reckon folks are going to want to stick around here after all of this? Goblins, ghouls, and whatnot--I wouldn't be surprised if property values around here take a nosedive."
"That...may be what we need to do when this is over," Eostre says, almost not wanting to say it. "This ghoul...he's terrorizing the town to get OUR attention. His rampage is because of us...the goblins were something we happened to be in the right place at the right time for, but now that we've made a name for ourselves as local heroes, we seem to have made enemies without realizing. Perhaps if we leave and go...wherever, Sandpoint can finally return to something resembling normalcy. There isn't even really much at Chopper's Isle to dig up...we made most of the significant archaeological discoveries the first time Brodert and me went down there, before we met you at Thistletop, Orik."
Eostre sighs a bit.
"It's...frustrating. Over the short time I've been here I've really gotten to like it here...even Nicat doesn't seem as irritating as he did a couple of weeks ago."
"Or perhaps this is a portent that things are only going to get worse, Ms. Roldheim." Brodert adjusts his glasses again. "I'm reminded of an old series of short stories penned in Magnimar--of a man of great strength and intellect, dedicated to rescuing the City of Monuments from the grip of its criminal underworld."
"Yeah, I heard something about that." Orik nods. "He got the ordinary crooks by the short hairs, but just attracted a stranger breed of criminal, didn't he?"
The sage nods. "It could be that Sandpoint's got more troubles on the horizon, and you and your band are going to be our best chance of weathering it."
--------------------
Ven is silent for a moment. His lip trembles, and some sweat collects in his creased brow. "Shayliss... she's a smart girl. Got a good head on her shoulders, even if she's got... well, unusual tastes in men."
"I don't reckon there's much more I can do for her besides..." He shakes his head. "Never mind that."
"Now, if you're lookin' for wagons, you'll want to go asking for Bilivar Wheen. He's a wainwright--got a business on River Street, not too far from the Rusty Dragon. He'll be glad for the business--maybe it'll help him get out of the bottle he's in."
--------------------
The halfling and the monk arrive at the Dragon soon enough, and Ameiko briefly waves them in and bids them welcome before getting back to work.
"We'll talk to him. But Ven." He puts his hand on the old man's shoulder. "Do you really want to leave her here to fight ghoul alone?"
Arriving at the Dragon, Nicat's newfound enthusiasm for the task at hand is still bubbling within him. "Sis!" he calls out to Eostre. "Sis, over here! Why the long face? We've got a job to do, for Sandpoint! You can't give up just because it's a hard job!"
He waves to Ameiko, signaling for a round of drinks, and says to his assembled companions, "Let's have a quick one, then get going! This is no time to be thinking about digging in the dirt for old stuff - that can wait, Eostre! We've got to get to the bottom of this and do right by the people of Sandpoint!"
Eostre growls a bit at Nicat's idiotic statement.
"I am NOT giving up anything, Nicat! What I'm saying is if monsters are starting to target Sandpoint because WE'RE here, then maybe it'd be best to spend some time away from Sandpoint to give the town some breathing space, some time to recover."
Evelyn's thoroughly confused by Eostre's train of thoughts. "But we're helping, aren't we?"
She gives it some more thought, frowning deeply.
"Yes, I'm sure we are," Evelyn concludes a bit later, not willing to accept the other option as it scares her.
Ekan also looks very rattled at this suggestion "You believe we are somehow drawing threats to this place, specifically us? I do not see how the group of us could possibly be that important."
"Why not? We saved the town, didn't we? We're the big heroes of the town, now! Why wouldn't some wannabe big bad monster want to prove themselves by taking down the big heroes of the area?" Eostre replies. "I mean, back home at the Gas Forges, if we got gangs thinking they could harass one of our foremen for protection money, we'd send a throng of strong workers to beat up whoever the gang's strongest enforcer to send the message for them to keep clear."
She takes another pull of her drink.
"Remember, the whole reason Foxglove's started this whole sad show in the first place was to get our attention. To get US to come to him."
Ven growls and snorts. He sounds almost like a feral hound. "What am I supposed to do? I can't just let Katrine's murder go unanswered!"
"Leaving the rest of your family in danger isn't the answer, you know that. Ven, I'm a believer in hard truth, so here it is. You can go, and worry about your family being killed, or you can stay, and not be happy you're not killing this guy yourself. Which can you live with?"
Ekan is frowning, "I admit, i don't want to believe that our solutions are to either leave this place undefended in hopes whatever comes after us and leaves this place alone or staying here and surely damning it. I think Sandpoint's foes maybe fixating on us, but the bad things would still happen. Surely, acting on your conscience is not some harbinger of doom."
Eostre nods.
"I don't know what else to do, Ekan...I've never had this many people depending on me before. Hell, I've never had much of a sodding conscience before!"
She frowns too.
Ven growls and sighs. "...dammit."
"Fine... I'll... stay here." Some of the fire has gone out of his eyes.
-------------------
"I suppose now's as good a time as any to develop one, Ms. Roldheim." Brodert shrugs. "If nothing else, stopping this crisis could be quite a learning experience for a prospective mage."
"Acting on my what now?" Nicat asks Ekan. He then turns to Brodert and Eostre and says, "Yeah, sis, you could learn something! I thought that was what you are all about."
With a shrug, he says, "Anyway, we gotta stay here and take care of all these scary things menacing Sandpoint, that's all there is to it." He takes a long pull on a tall glass of beer, wipes the foam from his upper lip with the back of his hand, and completes the thought, "It's as simple as that."
Conner squeezes his shoulder. "I'd do the same thing in your shoes. Come on, let's see to keeping the town as safe as we can and talk to Bilivar Wheen."
"Aye, but most of my learning's been regarding ancient civilizations and turning lead into mithral and sh!t. I didn't come here expecting to be some kind of hero...and...and what happens if I'm not strong enough to be one?" Eostre says, starting to look a bit shaken as she glances at the fire in the fireplace.
"Nicat, how do you take everything so un-seriously? Lives are on the line here...this isn't some kind of game."
"I suspect it's Nicat's way" He says gently, "And we don't need to worry about being heroes. We'll just do our best and do what's right and then they'll call us what they call us."
Her frown softens, and Evelyn places a hand on Eostre's shoulder. "Ekan's right. Let's not try to be heroes, even if that's what some people call us. Let's just be ourselves, and do what we can do to help others."
"One step at a time," she says, sighing deeply before nodding at the door. "First step's to pass that. Shall we?"
"*I'll* talk to Bilivar, Conner." Ven holds up a callused hand. You notice the muscles in his arms seem to be quite strong--stronger than a simple grocer & woodcutter should normally have. "You go with your pals and sort this s#!$ out."
"One thing, though--when you find the f+~+er who killed my little girl, I want his head."
The party reunites and sets off into the darkness, following the long and winding road going south of Sandpoint. A few hours of walking leads to a fork in the road, heading east to the farmlands.
The pale moonlight illuminates the party's way as they reach what appears to be the Hambley farmlands after another half-hour of travel. The farm's fields are extensive, with rows upon rows of corn stalks stretching some ten feet above their heads. A sickly stench is on the air as they approach... a familiar stench evoking the grave.
Conner draws his sword, ready for an ambush. "We should search the buildings, one at a time. Also we should note which would be better for a defensive structure."